


flame alight

by maraudersourwolf



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Emotional Hurt, Goodbyes, Grief/Mourning, Heartbreaking, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Sad Ending, Sad With No Happy Ending, Tearjerker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-27 21:50:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16228007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maraudersourwolf/pseuds/maraudersourwolf
Summary: He doesn’t know who owns the future now, but it’s not them.It doesn’t feel like they won at all.





	flame alight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LovelyLittleGrim](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelyLittleGrim/gifts).



> I was overwhelmed by emotions this last couple of days.  
> And I need to vent somewhere, y'know?  
> Writing seems to do the thick.
> 
>  
> 
> This is the most belated birthday gift ever, but writer's block is a thing.  
> And procastination too.  
> So here, **Amanda** , this is for you.
> 
>  
> 
> Loosely based on [this Stucky scene](http://newsbypostcard.tumblr.com/post/175474085831/never-forget-that-steve-knew-bucky-wanted-to-see)
> 
> This takes place after the supernatural war.  
> In the alternate universe where Mason didn't survive the attack of the hunters at the McCall house.
> 
>  
> 
> Again.  
> Barely to none beta'd.  
> Most likely messy.  
> Probably weird.  
> Enjoy!

 

 

“Here we are,” mumbles Liam, taking the last couple of steps upward on the mountain, trying to not get his foot catch into the loose falling rocks but in the hard firm ground, and watching mesmerized the welcoming sky in front of him.

The walk has been going for about three hours and half over an unmarked path, slow and steady to avoid any complications that this raw side of nature could give. Every bone groaned in displease and every muscle burned with exertion but they made it and, for Liam, the accomplishment gave him nothing but a sense of pride.

This had been in their plans for so long and they were finally achieving it.

Finally sitting down, small pieces of debris and dry leaves scrapping over the palm of his hands, Liam puts everything in place and smiles at Mason, that smiles back at him like many times before he did.

Liam tries to think how many times they planned to come here, to look at the settling sun in the distance and let themselves be part of this. Marshmallows and a tent in their plans. Sleep bags, horror stories, be one with the nature. Plans that always kept too short or too big and it all just resumed to them pining it into a list of  _ do before _ that never got picked up.

How many times they wanted to escape the reality that was holding down on them, a future that was forged in every teen mind, and that just got worse with something as tiny as a bite and as powerful as knowledge of what hides in the dark.

How many times.

And now they are here.

Liam breathes in slowly, letting the air fill his lungs completely and reach every corner of his body. In this moment there’s no string attached to him, except the single one that threads him and Mason together to this place, to this fantasy land where everything could be forgotten for as long as they wanted.

A shiver goes down Liam’s back and he knows it has nothing to do with actual cold but with the strange sense of freedom blooming in the middle of his chest, but he still drags himself closer to Mason like he’s been doing since day one of knowing him. 

The memory makes a laugh bloom in the middle of his chest. Two kids, so different yet so similar, running around wild and ready to take the world on their hands. Ready to show the world that the future is theirs and no one else’s.

That the future  _ was _ theirs.

The bloom starts to spread like roots and choke him down. Memories swiftly going from kids running around in the park, sharing cookies and toys, to growing up so fast. A dad leaving and an out of the mold way of being. Aching bones and aching hearts. Nightlights to keep nightmares at bay and hugs from a brother that wasn’t his blood. That soon wasn’t his brother but something else. Something better. Something that felt fulfilling and his. IED and bullying. Bloody noses and silent screams. Kisses on the corner of their mouths and shy fingers lacing together for more than just support. Normal is just a word used to harm others and fists are not the answer but neither is the spiteful words throw at them that drip venom and cling to their skin like mud. Lingering glances. Fighting each other’s battles, filling each other’s empty corners. A bite, a wolf, human bones and a bat. Arms tight around each other because letting go is a luxury they’ll not engage with. Death wasn’t meant to be a close friend you saw on sundays, but they learned to cope. The sour and itching smell of wolfsbane against the sweet and warm one of the only person that knew him better than himself. He was never good at tactics, but Mason always had a plan to cover his back. Mason never had fire cursing through his veins, but Liam would cover him like a shield if that was the case. Because they were always together and that’s how they worked. 

A bond, tight and secure. 

A war, cold and harsh. 

A win. 

But does it count as one?

He doesn’t know who owns the future now, but it’s not them.

It doesn’t feel like they won at all.

Liam bites his lower lip just to not cry out loud and disrupt the eerie peace surrounding them. There’s a howl clawing it way up his throat but he tampers it down and promises a soon release. Letting the sleeve of his hoodie drop over his hands, he presses each one against his eyes for a moment and lets the fabric ebb the damp away. He doesn’t take his hands right away, but keeps them in place while trying to bring his breathing back to somewhere close to calm and will his body to stop shivering.

“I’m sorry,” Liam whines, “I said I wasn’t going to cry but--”

But he’s a crier. 

He’s always been.

No one would believe that a kid with an IED working as fast as a snap of fingers would actually break down so often, but it’s the way he’s wired. Sometimes they hold after the frustration and the anger melts down into his fierce burning core and only fall when the guilt crashes and shocks every cell of his body. Sometimes it’s right in the middle of shouts that sound like thunders and a destruction that falls short into the inner catastrophe, the storm getting hold of his eyes. And sometimes it just happens, because the world is harsh and cruel and he’s better than most kids of his age but lesser than others and the responsibilities he rehearsed for are now in the trash same as his dreams.

But he’s not the center of his own universe now.

He’s in a place where his value and his worth has nothing to do with a father or a mother or an alpha or even himself. That’s not related to how many rules he broke or how many he followed. A place, that’s nothing but a dot, in a world, that’s nothing but another bigger dot, in a galaxy full of dots that are indiscernible from each other and don’t adhere to schools, extra curricular classes, colleges, careers or even species.

Is just a point where he’s sharing space with a thousand million other things that are no less important than he is.

_ Because everyone and everything is part of a bigger picture _ , that’s what Mason said when they were fourteen and he got a diagnose that just cemented the idea that he was beyond fucked up. When tears burned down the same how that anger and remorse did inside. 

A bigger picture that connected dots together even if there was no connection at all to find. 

Like two kids that had nothing in common more than laughter and the shimmer in their gaze that welcomed the world with curious eyes. Or two boys facing a shame they didn’t feel and sharing a pain they didn’t deserve by laced fingers and hushed kisses.

The pressure of the hands in his eyes are making him see constellations of color and light so he takes them away and looks at the canvas of browns and oranges and reds rocks in front of them. Years upon years of damage, centuries, yet the beauty is ingrained in it. Liam wonders for a moment if, since everything in this world is related, he’s actually seeing himself out there. If all the pain and all the collateral destruction that fell upon his shoulders will lead him to the most perfect self he could ever be.

He wonders if that’s what Mason saw since the first day and this is nothing but a cheesy attempt to make him see exactly that.

One that works.

The smile spreading on his lips tugs at the tightness of his cheeks, right where some astray tears ran down his face, and he looks back at Mason again. The smile is still there and the tingle in his eyes. Liam’s smile dims a little and get blurry over a new bundle of emotions, but it doesn’t fall.

Not here.

Not now.

The sun is setting even lower, almost disappearing and letting the night take over, and Liam knows that with or without werewolf vision, getting back will be a burden. But he doesn’t care. This is their place, their bubble. Same as long before were half-assed blanket forts and empty corridors. 

“We made it,” he whispers and his voice does some weird choking whine that he can’t ignore. Liam chuckles and rubs the back of one sleeve over his nose while looking away, not because there’s anything to catch but because it’ll give him enough cover. It’s a shield for a small second that he needs.

The moon is starting to arise. Round and bright and full, but Liam doesn’t feel the blind rage of the shift. He feels oddly calm. 

When he looks back at Mason, the urge to kiss him is there, so he does. Is chaste and soft but he still takes his time kissing the smile he so much came to love, trying not to think and just letting himself go, until he needs to convince himself that’s enough.

Then he turns the picture and lets Mason see the enormity in front of them.

In front of him.

“We are here,” he repeats, more to himself. Hushed. “We made it”.

They didn’t.

This time, when the need to howl prowls in the middle of his chest, Liam reminds himself that wreckage can get beautiful at some point, that it will just take time to get used to the cracks and the hollow parts that are now his to bear. 

Just time. 

And the memory of a smile as only goodbye.

 

**Author's Note:**

>  **Embers by Whisperer**  
>  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vQuL_HO5dck


End file.
